Infinity Castle: Shadows of Eternity
Chapter One – The Awakening
The Infinity Castle stirred.
Its endless halls groaned like the ribs of some colossal beast, stretching and folding in ways that defied all human logic. Lanterns flickered without flame, casting restless shadows across pillars that rose into infinity. The floor itself pulsed as if alive, guided by the will of the master who ruled within.
At its heart, a lone figure stood.
Muzan Kibutsuji.
His presence was suffocating, commanding silence from the very walls. Clad in darkness yet regal in posture, he regarded the trembling world around him with the indifference of a god surveying insects. His skin was pale as ivory, his eyes twin pools of crimson that glowed faintly in the void.
For centuries, he had hidden in plain sight, wearing the mask of humanity. A merchant. A doctor. A stranger on the streets. Never truly seen, yet always there. But concealment was no longer needed.
He closed his eyes, and the castle obeyed. The floors buckled, stairways twisted upside down, and doors collapsed into nothingness. The cries of weaker demons echoed through the shifting chambers—shrieks cut short as the structure devoured them. Muzan neither flinched nor cared.
With deliberate grace, he placed a hand over his chest. Bones cracked. Flesh rippled. His body writhed like molten wax reshaping under an unseen fire.
And then… he transformed.
A ripple of dread surged through the castle. From beneath his flawless human disguise emerged something far more terrible—limbs elongated, muscles tensed, veins bulged black as ink. His form was monstrous, elegant, and horrifying all at once, the true visage of the Demon King.
“Hope…” His voice slid like silk across sharpened steel. “…was never meant for mankind.”
The air itself seemed to recoil.
From the far side of the chamber, a presence stirred. Heavy footsteps echoed across the endless floor. Emerging from the darkness was a warrior cloaked in shadow, his long black hair flowing like ink spilled into water.
Six eyes glowed upon his face. Each carried a different sorrow, a different hunger, a different truth. His blade, curved like a fragment of the crescent moon, shimmered faintly in the gloom.
Kokushibo, the Upper Moon One.
He stopped a few paces from Muzan. For a heartbeat, silence reigned—two forces of unimaginable power measuring one another. No words passed between them, for words were unnecessary. They both understood what lingered in the air: judgment, rebellion, inevitability.
Finally, Muzan broke the silence. His voice was calm, but beneath it lay venom.
“You stand before me, Kokushibo. Do you come as a servant… or as something more?”
The warrior’s grip on his blade tightened. His six eyes narrowed, pain and fury swirling within them like storms.
“I come,” Kokushibo said at last, his voice heavy as iron, “as the blade of fate itself.”
And then, without warning—he struck.
The Infinity Castle roared to life as steel clashed against shadow. Kokushibo’s blade carved arcs of silver through the void, each slash a crescent moon burning against the darkness. Muzan met every blow effortlessly, his body twisting and reshaping to deflect the strikes.
The battle had begun.
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